3rd Degree Burning
by Chaos Chao
Summary: Burns in the 3rd Degree are the most damaging of all. Because they destroy our ability to even feel the pain... Hao and Yoh centric
1. The rest is silence

Heya, folks.

I've started writing again, isn't that interesting?

I took a break after my last huge fic to recharge my batteries and fiddle with new ideas.

And thus we have this fic here, the result of my new Shaman King interest.

...Let me be perfectly unclear on this: this may or may not be a one-shot. Get it? Got it? Good - now explain it to me.

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Disclaimer: I do not own Shaman King

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Somehow, it seemed almost peaceful to watch the roaring white light envelop him, washing out the rest of the world and hiding it from sight. Certainly much more peaceful than the battle they had just fought.

Actually, Yoh decided after another moment, it felt like he was inside a big, bright bubble. That was a nice feeling – bubbles always looked very happy and sparkly. Although the soap bubbles had been more see-through than this…so this would be a very strange bubble, if it really were one.

Yoh would have asked for an opinion on it, but Amidamaru had disappeared with the coming of the bright white wave of light. Yoh thought about worrying about that, before shrugging it off. Somehow, he knew that he and Amidamaru weren't in any danger of permanent separation from this. This brightness had come from the swirling pillar that embodied the Great Spirit, and despite everything that had happened, Yoh felt perfectly safe.

All the same, though, it had been a long day, and with the fighting, the running, the more fighting, the Hao-taking-his-soul thing, and the rest of the fighting, Yoh was getting kind of tired. Not to mention how hungry he was from all that exertion. Yoh hoped that whatever the Great Spirit wanted to happen now wouldn't take too long.

As if in response to this sentiment, a shape appeared, emerging out of the whiteness just in front of Yoh. From the way the whiteness was peeling back from around the shape, it seemed as if it had been right in front of Yoh's eyes the entire time, merely concealed from view by the whiteness. It was shaped like a person…a very familiar person…

Yoh felt himself stiffen a little. The person was as unmistakable as his own face in the mirror would be; you could really take that literally, considering that Hao was his identical twin and all.

As Hao came into clearer view, Yoh was startled once again. Hao was just standing there, slightly hunched over and face pointed towards the ground, so that his long hair covered his features. Hao looked like someone who had lost a tough battle recently, battered and blood-splattered – his long cloak even had some signing around the bottom, probably from too-close contact to the overpowered Spirit of Fire near the end of their fight…

However, the thing that Yoh found startling was the strange writhing aura that he could see covering his brother/ancestor. It stood out clearly against the white background, red and black flickering like flames.

Yoh would readily admit that this hadn't been this disturbed since the first time he had seen a fixated ghost. The only people he'd been friends with back then had been the various ghosts and spirits in the town, and it was very freaky to see something he considered a prospective friend calmly hanging around while on fire.

The last of the whiteness between them faded. Hao stood without moving for another moment, before seeming to register Yoh's presence and raising his head. The glare Hao fixed on Yoh upon recognition was nothing short of murderous.

"I hate you, Asakura Yoh," Hao said.

While the words rang out in an even manner, Hao's voice nearly throbbed with bitter rage. Yoh surprised himself with the sudden realization that Hao's declaration of hatred didn't bother him, not really. If _he'd_ been the one desperately surpassing death and fighting for a thousand years, only to be thwarted at the absolute last second, Yoh figured, he'd hate that guy too.

Now, though, Yoh didn't feel much more than a strange sense of pity. So in response to Hao's declaration of hatred, Yoh calmly nodded, and replied, "I know."

This answer served only to infuriate Hao further.

"I _hate_ you," Hao repeated, "I wish I had made sure you were stillborn!"

"I know," Yoh replied.

"I should have told Spirit of Fire to burn your soul at birth!"

"I know."

"I should have burned your body the second I had your soul to keep you from escaping me!"

"I know."

With every unfazed answer he received, Hao's rage-twisted expression seemed to falter. Hao had spoken from fury, but Yoh was giving no place for that fury to latch on and grow, and simple confusion was starting to overtake the anger.

"I should have made certain you never existed to begin with!"

"I know."

"This isn't over, not for me," Hao snarled, "The next Shaman Fight is only five hundred years away. I'll transmigrate into a new body and burn this filthy world of humans to ashes!"

"I don't think you will," Yoh replied.

"Oh really?" Hao sneered, "How do you figure that?"

Yoh thought about it a moment. How could anyone stop Hao's next transmigration? Well, there _was_ the obvious way…

"The Shaman King from this fight might ask the Great Spirit to seal your soul so that it can't transmigrate anymore," Yoh pointed out.

Hao's expression darkened. "I hate you," he snarled, "That's just what you _would_ do with your victory, bastard…"

Yoh blinked. Then, much to the obvious dismay of Hao, Yoh beamed at him.

"You think I can really win?"

"…I hate your stupidity the most," Hao growled, "Why the rest of my soul is such an idiot, I'll never understand."

Shrugging it off, Yoh let himself grow serious. There was no telling how long this situation would last, and Yoh was determined not to leave this situation unresolved. "Speaking of the transmigration…"

"…You think I'd tell you how to do it, so you can follow me and ruin my next life like you did this one?"

Hao sounded incredulous, but Yoh shook his head.

"I don't need to learn how," Yoh clarified, "But I do have a question. When you leave the body to transmigrate, how does that work? Do you just say 'hey, this life stinks, I'm going to try a different body for next time' and then you go and find one?"

"You must think I'm a complete idiot," Hao retorted, "You know already that it doesn't work that way; even _you_ wouldn't make it sound so stupid otherwise."

"Well, it didn't sound like it did, but now I'm sure," Yoh pointed out, "Now I have another question. The last two lives you've had…neither of them ended very good, did they?"

Hao didn't reply to this one; he grit his teeth and glared at Yoh, eyes narrowed to slits. Yoh took this to be an affirmation and continued speaking, nonplussed.

"So each time you died, or…were killed, you were angry and wanting revenge. You kept those feelings bottled up inside your soul, letting them drive you along as you focused on your goal before anything else…" Yoh shook his head, "That's a _bad_ fixation for a ghost to have, Hao."

"…What are you…are you calling me a _ghost?_"

"Well, not really, since you're alive and all," Yoh scratched his head, wondering how to explain this half-formed notion of his properly, "But you have died before, and if you had _stayed_ dead, _then_ you would be a fixated ghost. …At least I think that's how it would work."

Hao gaped at him for almost a full minute.

"You think I'm…that I could even be…a fixated ghost?"

"Well, that swirly aura of yours makes you look like one," Yoh pointed out.

"And yours doesn't?"

Blinking, Yoh looked at himself more closely. Sure enough, he was covered in a swirling aura the same as Hao was. There was an obvious difference between them, however – unlike Hao's unpleasant black-red aura; blue-white flames surrounded Yoh. They reminded him of Amidamaru in the Oversoul, actually.

Looking back over at Hao, Yoh saw the other Shaman was still studying himself. Judging from the look on his face, Hao was not happy with what he was seeing. Well, Yoh didn't know what he could do, but he was pretty good at quelling raging spirits with bad fixations, so there must be _something_ he could do…

Hao's head jerked up as Yoh walked closer; something like dismay twisted the old Shaman's features, but Hao didn't move away. He looked like he wanted to step back very much, but something was keeping him rooted.

"W-What are you doing?"

"I'm not really sure," Yoh answered, speaking honestly, "I think it will help…"

As Hao started to protest against that decidedly non-reassuring sentiment, Yoh raised his hands and placed them on his twin's shoulders. He really wasn't sure what he was doing, but he wanted to do _something_ to help and this was the only thing he could think of doing…

Power swirled around, and Yoh had the sudden, very distinct impression that he was inside Hao again. This time, he wasn't all the way inside with no anchor, but it was still a little disconcerting. Brushing those feelings aside for the moment, Yoh reached out carefully, tracing the tendrils of tainted power back to their origin. Their battle had exhausted Hao's huge center of power to almost nothing, but there was still a sizable portion left. Tied into that power were many centuries' buildup of negative emotions, crusting and poisoning the rest of Hao's aura and soul – grief, sorrow, loneliness, fear, agony, and cruel death stank with noxious fumes. Yoh didn't have to think about it; the power was pulled taunt and the thousand year deposits tainting it untangled and cast aside with no hesitation at all. Without the crusting buildup holding it all together, the power seemed to disintegrate rapidly, evaporating right before his eyes.

Yoh lost track of this when a sudden blow knocked his hands away. Hao followed up with a shove, propelling Yoh backwards for a few awkward steps. Hao had his other hand clutched to his chest, and looked shocked and appalled.

"You…" Hao said, "What did you do!"

"I fixed it," Yoh said, "Look. That bad aura is gone now."

The black-red was indeed disappearing, vanishing into more neutral gray. Hao clearly didn't care.

"You…"

Hao seemed at a loss for words. Eventually, he settled on, "I _hate_ you…" the statement hissed and final.

There was really nothing else to be done here, Yoh decided. Looking up and around at the bright whiteness that still surrounded them, he wondered if the Great Spirit had been waiting for them to finish.

"...If you were waiting for us, we're finished now."

Yoh addressed the whiteness directly, figuring that it couldn't hurt. A deep rumble, something like a chuckle or a small earthquake, passed through his body. The whiteness flared to blinding brightness for a moment, then faded away completely. Yoh was standing in the desert, surrounded by his friends, watching the hidden entrance to the Patch Village disappearing into the cloud of blowing black sand.

There was no sign whatsoever of Hao.

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	2. To sleep, to dream

Hey, I'm actually posting a second chapter for this thing. Isn't that interesting...?

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Okay, fine, it's not. Please just go read the fic.

...And yes, I know this chapter is short. I thought I'd be longer...then I finished it and realized that hey, it wasn't. Not my fault.

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Disclaimer: See last chapter

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It was very painful, so very painful. Worse than dying...and since he'd already died twice, Hao was allowed to think himself an expert on that particular subject.

Ironic, almost. He'd thought he'd had Yoh pegged as a soft, naive fool. In this case, Yoh had turned out to have a cruel streak in him after all. Even those fools in the X-Laws would have been satisfied with just killing him for his supposed 'sins'.

Not so for Yoh, oh no - Yoh was _squeamish_ about that sort of thing.

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From that, here now was Hao, sprawled out under the burning glare of the sun in who-knew-what forsaken place, powerless and crippled. Possibly the worst part about this was that even though death would be a much more comfortable proposition (there _was_ the next Shaman Fight to start preparing for) that way was closed to him now.

Hao knew his power would return in full, given enough time, but Yoh had actually _done_ something to his control of the pentagram. Transmigration to a new body would be impossible for him, unless Yoh's actions were undone and Hao's control restored...much to the joy of the Asakura family, no doubt. There was nothing Hao could do without any of his power; he couldn't even have Spirit of Fire come and take him to a safe place where he could rest.

Instead, Hao was lying in the dust. Where this was...wherever the Great Spirit had dumped him...Hao might have mustered the strength to get up and figure out where he was and what he should do next. Lacking the motivation, he didn't.

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Considering how the heat faded into cold and back to heat, how the heat was at one point broken with a sudden, gentle rain, Hao knew that he had been there a while - a few days, at least. Unmoving for days on end...

There was an oddly serene quality to it. Even if it was a miracle that Yoh hadn't died of exposure by doing this sort of thing, Hao grudgingly admitted that his erstwhile brother had had a good idea with this.

Sadly, such serenity couldn't last forever. Faint and flickering non-voices began echoing through his mind, steadily rising in volume and irritating him.

Just want he _didn't_ need, nosy and unwelcome humans. Human thoughts and emotions were so chaotic and unorganized that not even Hao could block them out when they went flitting his way. Even the weakest and most useless shaman, on the other hand, had a much more organized mind, far less likely to wildly broadcast their every thought and feeling out into the ether: yet another reason why humans were inferior and needed extermination.

The humans' actual voices grew clearer as they drew closer.

"Hey, look! John, I think Doobie thinks he's a bloodhound now!"

"Yeah, look at him sniffing around over there...hey, Doobie! The trail's over here, y'dumb mutt!"

Any hopes of avoiding the foolish humans - granted, all Hao could really do was lie perfectly still and pretending he wasn't there - went to waste the instant their stupid human-loving mongrel bounded over and shoved its nose into Hao's face.

It gave an ear-piercing yelp when Hao backhanded its snout as hard as he could manage.

"What was that about? Did a snake bite him?"

"Knowing my dog? Lemme check. C'mon Doobie, you stupid...little...Jesus holy Christ - Judy, get over here! Doobie found a dead body!"

What a perfect example of human stupidity.

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Days of lying motionless had left Hao's body stiff and unresponsive; the stupid dog had yelped more out of fear and surprise than out of pain. Because of this, Hao wasn't able to simply walk away from these annoying humans, and had to suffer the added disgrace of being lifted and carried by them. As if that wasn't enough of an indignity, all the while their idiotic minds and idiotic mouths refused to simply be _quiet_ and leave him _alone_.

"How long do you suppose he was lying there? Do you think he'll be alright?"

_**Uncertainty. Where was this strange child from?**_

"Once we get him checked out, we'll know."

_**Confusion. Who **lets** themselves lie around like that?**_

"That's a relief."

_**Annoyance. And I was having such fun on this hike...**_

"I'm sure he'll be fine."

_**Disgust. Look at the way he's dressed...damn hippie...**_

The sounds, non-voices, and emotional spillover kept circling him, rattling around and around inside his head and interfering with his own thoughts...finally, Hao hit his limits for tolerance.

The humans gave out deafening bursts of surprise when Hao shrugged himself out of their grips and tried to take a few wobbling steps away...only to have his stiff and weakened body betray him, sending Hao hurtling towards the harsh, stoney ground.

The sudden drop into unconsciousness was almost a relief.

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	3. When all the world's a stage

I apologize for how long this took to get out. And for how short it is.

But if I'd waited to make it all into some big one-shot...then I'd _never _get anything posted, ne?

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Disclaimer: See last chapter

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"Young man, we can't contact your parents if you won't tell us anything," she repeated.

The slim figure in the bed remained silent. Without another word, she gave the IV another adjustment, turned to the door, and left the room.

She hadn't expected to receive a reply anyway. Ever since this young man had arrived at the hospice, he'd absolutely refused to answer any questions. He wouldn't speak a word - not even so much as to ask about where he was at all.

In any other town that could have found this young man, he would no doubt be in an intensive care ward in a hospital and be receiving the best care possible.

She worried...he was still so very thin...but there was no hospital in this remote area. This hospice was the only medical facility for a long ways. Every other bed in use held someone who had come to this beautiful but remote place only to die.

'Someone so young...did he come for the same reason, I wonder?' she thought to herself as she finished her rounds.

She wasn't even qualified as a nurse...but the hospice was small enough that it welcomed a hard-working volunteer to help. It was only a temporary job; really...she'd heard more than a few times from her friends about how this was not a good place for someone as sensitive as she was to work. She knew it was true - she'd welcomed every newcomer herself, checked on them every single day...and was beside them when they passed on. It always tore her apart to see them leaving...

This scene repeated itself for days on end. Then for weeks. Until one day...

"Young man," she said, departing from her usual refrain, "I don't understand why you won't let us help you. You surely can't mean to stay here forever, do you?"

Not expecting a reply, she went to check on his IV. Really, he was so thin, and his appetite was so poor┘a faint, hoarse sound jerked her from her normal reverie. She glanced down and was startled to see a faint hint of a smile on the young man's face.

That sound again...it was a chuckle, or wanted to be one.

"...Was something I said funny to you?" she asked.

Perhaps this was the start of a breakthrough...

The hint of amusement vanished as quickly as it appeared. Sighing, she turned to leave the room. Just as she reached the doorway, the whisper of a soft voice cracked from disuse reached her ears.

"**_There's no..._**"

She hesitated, startled. The voice continued.

"._**..such thing...**_"

Turning her head, she could see the young man's lips moving. That was _his_ voice...and it was such a _lovely_ voice. There was a note to that voice that could have charmed the rattle off a snake.

"**_...as...'forever'._**"

That faint hint of amusement twisted his features again. There was suddenly a chill panging in her stomach, and before she realized it, she had fled the room entirely.

It was later than usual the next day before she could work up the nerve to go and check on the young man. Truly, she was worried about him...but there was something about him that unnerved her as well. What that was, she couldn't put her finger on, but there was definitely something strange about him.

He was silent as she entered the room, as she checked to make sure he was resting comfortably, as she brushed away what little dust the room's unused chairs and table had accumulated since yesterday. It was only as she was looking things over before leaving for the rest of her duties that she realized that the young man's gaze was no longer fixated on the wall opposite him.

He was looking at her now...once again she was struck by the strangeness of this young man. His eyes were clear...and so deep.

"...Aren't you...going to bother me about finding my family today?" he asked when he saw that he had her attention.

"I..."

She began to speak, but her voice suddenly failed her. His voice cut through the silence to take the place of hers.

"You're very annoying. I was thinking about telling you to mind your own business, but you're nosy. Like a little yapping dog that won't ever shut up."

This was nothing like how she'd expected this young man to be like. His words were biting, almost contemptuous. If not for the strange dull undertone to his quiet voice, she might have eventually felt insulted. Instead she didn't know what she was feeling. All she knew for certain was that this was not a normal young man...not at all...

"I'll tell you, and you'll stop bothering me. That's how it would work, right?"

She nodded...then shook herself, and went to get a piece of paper and a pencil.

It would be for the best if this young man was returned to his family as soon as possible...and maybe she would finally take that job offer in the city that she'd been considering. A change of pace would do her good...and the hospice was starting to become a very strange place for her to work in...

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